


Shadows that Remained

by xRWBY (xtracurricular)



Series: The Prologues [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Cauterization, Character Death, Emetophobia, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Graphic Description, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, xRWBY's Huntress AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 12:16:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20407609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtracurricular/pseuds/xRWBY
Summary: News of Atlas closing its borders forces Blake to recall a moment that will cast a shadow over her mind for the rest of her life.





	Shadows that Remained

**Author's Note:**

> Warning to those of you who may have skimmed the tags: this fic contains a fair amount of blood and violence.
> 
> This fic functions as a record of the Blake's most recent trauma and PTSD in my AU. This is also correlates with the Vol. 6 episode in which Adam perishes, so if you are a fan of Adam, you may not want to read this. In fact, if you're a fan of Blake and do not want to see her suffer, you may not want to read this either! This hurt me to write, because I fuckin' adore Blake! But it helps set the tone for the AU.

Blake sighed and closed her eyes, brushing her bangs to one side. All of this work was getting her nowhere. She pushed her desk chair back and stood up, stretching briefly. A distraction from this would do her good.

She enters the living room of her family home, spacious and filled with greenery. The furniture was dark and plush, covered in throw pillows of silk and cotton. It was a bit too luxurious for her tastes, yet it had always felt like home. She chose a couch to plop down onto and turned the holo-projector on. She wondered if rain was on the forecast, if not, it would be a beautiful evening, perfect for dining out. Her top set of ears twitched as she changed the channel to the local newscast and the volume minutely increased.

The projector displayed a dark-skinned Faunus, fluffy, tall rabbit ears sprouted from his head, partially covered by his thick, curly hair. He was describing a crime report from the south of Menagerie when he suddenly stopped and held a finger up to his left secondary ear. Blake’s brows furrowed as the broadcast went silent.

_“Hold on now, Kuo Kuana, we have some breaking news… Ah… Okay.”_ The Faunus’ expression changed to one of shock before he could catch it and maintain a neutral look. _“We’ve just learned that the Kingdom of Atlas has… closed its borders. We are going to switch to a live feed of a speech being given on the matter, stay with us.” _The image on the projector flashes black then flits to a view of General Ironwood behind a podium.

_“Atlas needs to keep its people safe. It is with great sadness that we must announce—”_

Blake had stopped listening. Atlas. Her eyes glazed over, like she was looking past the projector instead of at it. Slush-covered gravel. Her blood felt like ice in her veins. Flood-lights. Her lungs felt like they were filled with lead. Cinders flying into the night sky. Her heart raced out of control. Ash in the snow.

-x-

“Oh, Blake.” The voice was condescending, mocking, and filled with malice.

Her body shook uncontrollably. Blood from the cut above her left eyebrow trickled into her eye, and she reached up to wipe it away, her other eye wide open. She had to keep an eye on him at all times. She couldn’t let him get the upper hand. Gambol Shroud’s blade clanged against Wilt. She struggled to deflect the blow, gripping Gambol Shroud with both hands.

“Don’t you know when to give up?” Adam chuckled darkly, blood spilling past his teeth. “Of course you don’t.” He staggered to the side, flicking Gambol Shroud aside with Wilt. Blush had been knocked out of his reach, embedded in the snow.

Blake was in bad shape, but so was he. Both of their auras had faded, and both had received too many cuts, too many bruises. Adam’s mask was cracked, revealing the eye marred by the brand that shaped him. Blake couldn’t fathom how he still wore a smile.

For every hit she managed to land, she received one in return. The nature of Wilt, its color, made blood hard to spot on it, but Blake could see it dripping from the guard onto Adam’s gloved fingers.

“Just stop!” Her voice sounded hoarse. Adam had the gall to laugh.

“You know I can’t do that, Blake.”

They kept fighting, the air filling with the sound of crossing blades. The cold bit at Blake’s skin, steam rolled steadily off of her body, and the blinding flood-lights surrounding the Dust manufacturing plant illuminated the night. Adam’s empty left hand caught her wrist as she struck downward, and she caught his downstroke before it sliced open her neck. They were caught in a grapple and Adam finally frowned when he couldn’t overpower her with his natural strength like he used to.

Both of their overcoats had previously been torn to shreds, the tatters of Adam’s still clung to his form, while Blake had discarded hers. Open wounds were exposed to the bitter night air, allowing the blood that oozed from shallow cuts on her arms to flow freely downward during the fight. The grip on his wrist was quickly slipping from her now blood-slicked fingers. Shit.

“Is this what you want, Blake?” She glared at him, pupils small and narrow in her golden eyes. “Fighting with each other forever?” Her eyes narrowed, he was trying to manipulate her, as usual. She wouldn’t fall for it. “Won’t it get old? You and I chasing each other until one of us dies.” Adam pushed harder against her grip. When she refused to answer him, he smirked. “Well, Blake, I, for one, don’t plan on letting you get what you want that easily.”

The sound of an engine drew her eyes away from his. A van, its tires equipped with snow chains, pulled up to the entrance of the Atlesian Dust plant. Its back doors swung open and out poured a dozen masked White Fang combatants. Adam’s chuckle made her stomach overturn, and what she saw next nearly drove the bile into her throat.

Bumblebee skidded into the path of the White Fang. Yang let it drop as she leapt off and landed a solid kick to the face of the nearest White Fang member. When Yang turned momentarily to look at Blake, they met eyes. Blake saw Yang’s flash red and silently begged her not to throw herself into Adam’s path. She couldn’t let her demons endanger Yang again. Yang started to run to her, as Blake feared, until another White Fang member grabbed the back of her jacket. She pivoted at the last second and fired Ember Celica to propel her fist right into his throat.

Adam looked over his shoulder and then back at Blake, catching the exchange. “She won’t last long enough to stop us, you know.” Blake growled as her eyes snapped back to his. “Not when the actual strike-force gets here.” Her eyes widened. Exhaust smoke rose over the snow-covered trees not more than a mile away.

Her voice came out as a panicked whisper. “Yang!” Adam scoffed.

“Do you know how pathetic you sound?” His eye seemed to get darker. “It’s disappointing.” He suddenly threw her off, sending Blake staggering back. He flicked Wilt and blood splattered onto the slush underfoot. “You used to be so strong, we relied on no one but ourselves, you and me. You used to be an inspiration.” He stalked towards her and Blake took a step back. His breath spewed steam, the cut that split his lip opening and closing as he spoke.

Blake attacked, stabbing with her blade only to have it deflected. Stab, deflect. Slice, counter. Parry, step. Shotgun blasts rang out from only feet away, but Adam blocked her view. An eternity of just this, over and over. Blake was so tired. Tired of all of this. A scream jolted her. She dashed to the side, trying desperately to catch sight of Yang. It had sounded so much like Yang. But Yang was fine, the scream had been from a White Fang member clutching her arm, twisted in a way that shouldn’t have been possible. Ember Celica exploded into her abdomen, sending the girl flying. Yang was okay.

Blake’s breath caught in her throat as she fell forward, her arms just barely bracing her fall. Gravel dug into her forearms. The pain that spread out from across her back was overwhelming. She heard Adam fall onto his knees next to her, panting, laughing. He had to have spent the last bit of his aura for the strike, he must have used his semblance. He had to have been waiting for this, planning for it. She felt blood soak into the back of her shirt as she crawled forward, away from him. Her front became soaked from the slush, her fingers clawing into the ground.

She could hear him crawling after her, hear him getting up onto his feet. She cried out as he kicked her, flipping her over onto her back. Her back burned against the cold ground.

“No, no, no…” He muttered, staring down at her. “See, I couldn’t risk _you_ killing me. You win that way.” He knelt down next to her, holding Wilt loosely in both hands as though he was presenting it to her. She could hear herself wheezing. Atlesian sirens in the distance turned Adam’s head. “Ahh… The murderers are finally on their way.” She couldn’t move.

He looked back at her. “Let’s wait for them, what do you say, Blake?” She tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled gasp. A stray Dust launcher from Yang’s battle flew over Adam’s head and stuck itself upright in the snow. Adam shook his head as more shouting sounded from nearby, as did the squealing of brakes, three sets. “Looks like it’s going to start get exciting for your girlfriend over there.”

Blake glared at him, her teeth bared. “Fuck off, Adam.” She managed to croak out. He laughed and shook his head again.

“You see, Blake, I’ve done a lot of thinking about our little situation. You know, with you, and the White Fang, and me.” Blake could hear gunshots and bodies dropping to the ground. “It’s like this: You and I are destined to be drawn to one another. Our lives are intertwined, Blake.” He caressed her cheek, smearing blood across it. She slapped his hand away with a bit of effort, but he grabbed her throat in return, palming Wilt. It wasn’t a hard grip, it was firm, as Blake tried to claw his wrist to get him to release her, he tightened it. She settled for gripping his wrist with both hands, trying to pry him away. His grip around her throat loosened but he held it there easily, a threat.

“If you kill me, you win. That is something I can’t allow, naturally. But you see,” He leans closer. “I can’t kill you, Blake, because then what? You’re finally rid of me. You still get what you want. You still win.” He chuckled. “It just isn’t fair.” He flipped Wilt in his hand, holding it with the blade down.

“I know you, Blake. And because I do, know how to hurt you. That’s how _I_ win. And hurting you is so, so easy.” He drove Wilt into her abdomen, above her hip. An old wound reopened. Tears began to push past Blake’s eyelids which were shut tight as she howled in pain. Adam Twisted Wilt, eliciting another scream. Adam then withdrew Wilt, looking upward to the sky. The sirens had become deafening. And that’s when the Dust plant exploded.

Shrapnel and mortar rained down in all directions. Blake’s ears rang and the air around her suddenly warmed. Cinders shot up into the air above her and she saw flames reach up into the night behind Adam. He looked smug, proud, and when her ears stopped ringing, she heard him. “I will always be victorious, Blake. You see… I recently thought of a way to win permanently. A way to hurt you that you can’t just chase away with time or comfort. A way that you will **never** be able to forget **me**.” Atlesian airships flew into view. “And the White Fang will finally bend to my will.” Blake’s brows furrowed in confusion. Adam stood, dropping Wilt, blade down, into the snow. He stepped over Blake and walked over to the stray dust launcher, picking it up and took a moment to brush the snow off of it. He stepped over her again to walk calmly over to a clearing next to them in front of the burning remains of the plant. Blake pushed herself up into a sitting position and watched, mind racing. What the hell was he doing?

“Adam!”

He glanced over at her, smirk plastered on his face.

“Goodbye, _my love_.”

“What!?” Adam turned to face the Atlesian ships which were broadcasting a message to the battlefield, ordering the White Fang to stand down. And then he hefted the dust launcher onto his shoulder and fired it at one of the ships. The shot went wide, and Adam dropped the Dust launcher, putting his hands up in surrender.

And then the Atlesian ships open-fired.

Time stopped being fluid as Blake watched in mortification. She watched as Adam was blown apart by a shower of bullets. His bones were shattered with every impact, chunks of flesh rent effortlessly from his body. The bullets burrowed through his chest, exposing his ribs, shredding through skin and muscle, his lungs, his heart. And when they stopped there was barely anything left. There was just red, just blood, so much blood. Blake didn’t realize she was throwing up until she was too late to stop herself. She leaned over to the side as she retched, bending over onto her hands and knees.

She sat back onto her knees when it was over, tears streaking down her face uncontrollably. When she stood up it was like she wasn’t in control of herself. She felt numb as she picked up Gambol Shroud. She couldn’t see straight when she started to take steps toward the burning Dust plant. She didn’t remember falling onto the saturated gravel below her.

-x-

When Yang found her, she was unconscious. She ran over to her, coughing from the smoke. Atlesian soldiers rushed past her, securing whatever perimeter was left over. They had better be grateful she’d taken out so many White Fang before they got here.

Blake was covered in blood, and it was hard to tell exactly where it was all coming from at first. But as Yang sunk down to her knees next to her, lifted her into her lap, and found her pulse, she could see. There was bruising around her throat, the cuts on her arms, legs, and face were shallow, they would heal up just fine. But the fucking gash in her back would leave a scar. And the front of her shirt was soiled with dirt and even more blood which meant… Yang nearly ripped the shirt, lifting it. The scar was fresh, deeper, worse. Yang’s vision went white momentarily as she calmed the sudden rage that overcame her, her robotic hand clenching around the fabric. Her other hand shook as she reached forward to push some of Blake’s hair off of her face.

It took more than a moment but with a bit of jostling, Blake’s eyes opened.

“Yang?” Her voice was scratchy and weak.

“I’m here.” She smiled down at Blake, hoping it was more reassuring than it felt. Blake made a move to reach up, but Yang didn’t even try to wait for her to finish asking. Her arms wrapped around Blake and she shifted so Blake could sit in her lap. Blake’s arms found their way around Yang’s waist, and the two relished in the comfort of the embrace. Yang rocked Blake back and forth slowly, kissing between her feline ears every few moments. They stayed like that for a while.

But as Blake started sobbing, quietly into Yang’s chest, she pulled back to look at her, and their foreheads pressed together.

“Blake?” The sound of her own name seemed to affect her, her teeth clenching. “What happened?”

“He won, Yang.”

“What… What are you talking about?” Yang tilted her head, brows furrowing.

“He won.” Blake let out a choked sob. And then another, and another after that. Yang’s eyes widened in a mix of fear and anger. What the fuck had he done to her? Blake’s sobbing turned into pained whining, and she writhed, suddenly clutching at the wound on her abdomen. It was still bleeding. The med-evac Yang asked the Atlesians for was too far off, the wound was too serious to leave open. It took Yang a moment to think of what to do. Bumblebee’s saddle bags had been engulfed in flame so there was no med-kit nearby. Fuck. The wound was too severe to just cover it, and it could easily become infected with all of the ash and dirt covering them. She could cauterize it.

Yang closed her eyes, wincing as she considered it. She had to do something. She laid Blake down on the ground and took a vial of dust out of a pocket in her coat. Orange. Burnt at high temperature. Just a little would be able to do what she wanted. She carefully tipped the vial, angling it over Blake’s wound. She sprinkled the slightest amount around the edges of it and then took some on her finger and spread it into the opening. Blake gasped and spasmed. She used a burning piece of plaster to light the dust.

Yang could hardly look as the skin around the wound bubbled and blackened, Blake screamed and writhed, but Yang’s strong arms kept her still. When it was over, Yang cleared away some of the blood to make sure it worked. The wound was charred and no longer bleeding freely. Yang sighed in relief. She scooped Blake up into her arms and started rocking her again, looking into the fire surrounding them. Blake had fallen unconscious again, but that didn’t stop Yang from continuing to mutter comfortingly into Blake’s hair, kissing the top of her head every now and then. Yang would cry if she looked down at Blake again, so instead, she focused on the fire, the steam her breath created as it left her mouth, and ash on snow.

**Author's Note:**

> For all y'all Bumbleby fans (like me) out there, there will be another BB-centric fic in the prologues after this one, but it will have Ilia joining the two in their relationship later in the fic. I am a big fan of poly-ships (as I am poly myself,) and Ilia/Blake/Yang is one of my absolute favorites to explore. 
> 
> Next up in the prologues is some Weiss trauma! I shouldn't be excited about that, but the idea has been in my head for too long! Don't worry, she'll be okay, sort of...


End file.
